Christmas With Cas
by Crowley For King
Summary: Where the boys ask Cas to spend Christmas day with them and the angel learns about some strange human holiday traditions that he just doesn't understand.


Castiel pushed a breath from his lungs; it was unnecessary but it felt good to let _something_ go, as if some of the tension in his muscles had hitched a ride on the air as it rushed from his body.

A few more deep breaths followed the first and eventually Castiel was relatively certain that he could look his lieutenant in the eye without wanting to punch him in the throat – a habit he'd no doubt picked up from Dean.

The lower ranking angel's eyes were darting around nervously and Cas noticed the vessel's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and some, a _very_ small amount, of his anger drained away.

"Malik," He began, a hard edge to his voice that would not soften no matter how hard he tried. Though, if he was being honest, he wasn't trying that hard. "What happened in Al Ashmunin was-"

"Castiel, let me explain, I-"

"_Stop_. _Talking_." Cas ground the words out like he was crushing gravel between his teeth. Any and all of the anger that had left him in the face of Malik's demur attitude came raging back ten fold at the interruption.

Silence sung like the ring after gunfire following his words and Cas struggled to contain his grace as it flared in rage at the soldier's insolence. He opened his mouth to verbally eviscerate the other angel but was halted by Dean's voice ringing between his ears in prayer. Or at least what passed as Dean's crude version of prayer.

_'Cas, get your feathery ass down here for a minute. Just a minute, that's all. We gotta tell you something.'_

He snapped his mouth shut, his grace flaring brightly behind his eyes at yet _another_ interruption, making his lieutenant swallow nervously again.

"Go back to the safe house and find Camael. As of this moment you are hereby relieved of your position as lieutenant of this garrison."

Cas spread his wings and flew, but not before Malik's distressed cry reached his ears. As he landed gracefully in Bobby's sitting room, loose papers flying around him in the whirlwind of his arrival, he felt no guilt at relieving Malik of his position. The angel was ruthless and a good fighter but he was much too reckless and as a result of his poor planning, had caused the death of three other soldiers under his command. Such actions could not go unpunished.

Another sigh rushed from his nose when he began thinking about the process involved in finding a replacement to fill Malik's position. This time, however, the action did little to ease the tenseness in his shoulders and he shifted his wings restlessly, wishing he could stretch them properly.

Dean's fingers snapping in front of his face made him blink and he fixed his eyes on the man, who was standing in front of him with an expression that Cas read as mild concern.

"Hello, Dean." He looked over Dean's shoulder to see Sam hovering with a much more obvious look of concern on his face, though Castiel thought it was possible that that was just how Sam's face always looked. It certainly seemed that way.

"You alright, Cas?" Asked the older brother.

"Of course. What do you need?"

Another look, one that the angel failed to identify, passed over Dean's face then but was gone before he could examine it any closer. He felt a vague sense of annoyance, like he did every time he was unable to read human body language as easily as everyone else seemed to be able to, but he shook it off. Sam had once told him that the ability to read people was not something you learned over night and the younger brother had assured him that he was getting better at it even if it didn't feel that way.

Sam and Dean shared a glance and Dean cleared his throat in what was surely an expression of his unease. Though what the man had to feel uneasy about, Cas didn't know.

"Nothing, man. We just wanted to, er, ask you something." Dean scratched at the back of his head, and glanced, for the third time, over his shoulder at his brother.

Sam was rolling his eyes, which likely meant he was annoyed with his brother, as Cas could not remember a time when Sam had done so and the action had not immediately preceded some sort of verbal insult.

"Dude, grow a pair."

Cas restrained a smile of triumph. He'd been right, Sam _was_ annoyed with his brother. But then a frown settled itself on his features, wondering what Dean was doing that was so annoying.

Two minutes in the same room with the brothers and he was brain was in knots trying to keep up with all the non verbal communication happening between them.

A muscle in Dean's jaw popped as he clenched his teeth – annoyed – but he did not turn to retaliate his brother's verbal attack. A second later and Dean's face relaxed and an easy grin tugged at his mouth.

"We just wanted to invite you to spend Christmas day with us."

He blinked, caught off guard, and looked between the brothers. Perhaps they needed extra help with research again, although it was unusual for them to schedule a day for it in advance. Usually research was last minute and frantic as they desperately sought a way to end some new horror. Not to mention, such a polite invitation had never been extended to him like this before, in the past it had always been a panicked prayer for him to immediately come and help them.

His confusion with the request grew as he awaited further instruction or explanation and the silence only stretched on between the three of them.

When Sam and Dean's faces slowly changed into an expression they commonly displayed while speaking to him and shared another glance, Cas realized that _they_ were waiting for _him_ to speak and the now all too familiar sensation of uncertainty tightened around his chest like a constricting boa.

"Are...are we fighting something?" He asked, unsure why they were not volunteering the information instead of waiting for him to ask.

"What...no." Dean said, frowning.

"So we'll be researching something." Cas confirmed, again wondering why the brothers were acting so strangely and being so secretive. This was hardly new territory for them.

But his relief at having figured out the strange request was gone as fast as it had come when Dean's frown deepened.

"Dude, no. There's no monsters or fighting or research. Well, that we know of."

Itchy fingers of frustration began to claw at his insides. "I don't understand."

Dean merely shook his head and turned to his brother with a, "You wanna try?" as he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in Cas' direction.

Sam smiled slightly as he looked to Cas. "We don't need help with anything, Cas, we just want you to come hang out with us for the day."

"You know, build snow men, drink hot chocolate, get shit faced on spiked eggnog." Dean added, "Christmasy stuff."

"We know you've been fighting a war non stop up there. We just thought maybe you'd want to take the day off. Have some fun." Sam shrugged.

Understanding filled him, followed closely by something new that he could not remember feeling before. It swelled in his chest; a spreading warmth that chased away his lingering anger with Malik and replaced it with something quite...nice.

"So...do you?" Dean asked at length, his voice tinged with what sounded like disguised apprehension. Though Castiel supposed he was misreading him again, as there was no reason for Dean to be apprehensive at the moment, unless there was some hidden threat lurking behind the couch, although that seem unlikely.

"Of course." He responded with certainty, as he always did whenever the brothers asked something of him.

Almost immediately, the tension left Dean's body and both brothers were giving him wide smiles and he gave his own tentative one in return, still not sure he entirely understood what they were asking of him but glad he seemed to have given them the answer they wanted.

"So have you ever made a snow man?" Dean's grin had turned cheeky.

Although Cas was sure Dean already knew the answer, he offered a quiet, "No." anyway.

"Ever had eggnog or hot chocolate?"

"No."

"Gotten a present?"

He suddenly recalled in perfect detail the first few minutes following his sudden existence. "After I was...born," He decided to use a word they would better understand than getting into a long conversation about how angels came into being with Sam, "I was given my angel blade." He noticed the unimpressed look on both their faces. "That...is not what you meant."

"No."

_'Castiel, Al Masid has been taken.'_

The angel closed his eyes against the sweeping cold that rushed through him at Ariel's saddened payer to him.

"Cas? You ok?"

He opened his eyes to see both brothers looking at him with concern. Again. "No. Our soldiers in Al Masid have been killed and the territory, along with the heavenly weapon hidden there, has been seized by Raphael and his supporters. I have to go."

"Ok well, stay safe, and remember," Dean pointed a finger at him with a pointed look. "We have an appointment."

Despite the bad news he'd just received, Cas felt a smile tug at his mouth at what he now knew was an 'inside joke' between them.

He left, but not before he saw Dean's own smile widen and Sam give them both a confused look.

When Christmas Day came around, Castiel was watching the sunrise reverently from within the inner rings of Saturn. While beautiful on earth, seeing the sun crest over the tops of the first five planets in the solar system and seeing the light scatter in a million directions off the icy rocks orbiting the giant of a planet was breathtaking – even for someone who didn't need to breath.

He'd chosen Saturn's inner ring, which the humans had uncreatively named the 'D Ring', as an escape from the escalating war that had taken up every minute of his time since he had last spoken with Dean and Sam two weeks ago.

They were in a dead lock, both sides fighting ruthlessly, endless slaughter; they'd lose ground and then gain it back with no real advancement on either side.

And it was wearing him thin. After a while, even angels needed a rest from constant battle, which is why this little day off that the Winchesters had orchestrated could not have come at a better time.

He looked down at the large rock he was sitting on, smiling as the edge of it moved slowly, lazily against the background of millions of stars and other galaxies in the distance, and picked at a loose piece of rock until it broke free and he dropped it in his pocket.

He laid back on the rock and closed his eyes, reaching out with his senses, listening to the calming sounds of the universe. The explosive boom of meteors smashing into planets that lacked an atmosphere thick enough to burn them up. The woosh of a nearby comet. The roar of a dying star as it slowly collapsed in on itself. The glacial crunch of two galaxies colliding...

It was a beautiful symphony, unmatched by any other sound he'd heard yet. And as the seconds ticked by, Castiel almost wished he never had to leave this rock, out here, so far away from the troubles that plagued him, of the war and incessant slaughter of his brother and sisters.

Almost.

This request of Dean's had intrigued him and had taken up more than a few moments of time spent pondering just what his role in this request was supposed to be. Regardless, he was aware that humans commemorated the day with gift giving and was quite sure he'd chosen suitable ones for the three of them.

When a reasonable hour had come to pass on Dean's side of the earth, Castiel took one last look at the sun, it's magnificent light now free of floating planets in the way, and spread his wings.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean and Sam greeted him simultaneously.

"Hello." He rumbled back, the smell of Saturn's gasses still lingering in his nose. Although that was soon replaced with wood smoke from the fire place, pine from the Christmas tree and the damp scent of freshly fallen wet snow.

He smiled at the changes, the complexities and subtleties of the universe never ceasing to ignite wonder within him.

The shine of a Christmas tree ornament caught his eye and he turned to examine it. It was a small reindeer with an inflamed red nose that intermittently flashed bright red. He frowned at it, assuming it was another one of those things that made sense to humans, and let his gaze travel up the tree, examining the ornaments closely.

When he eyes caught sight of what was on the very top of the tree, a disbelieving laugh punched it's way out of his chest, surprising him. He slapped a hand to his mouth, but continued to chuckle and he tore his eyes away, hand sliding up to cover his eyes.

At the very top of the tree sat a doll that bared so much resemblance to himself that it had to have been intentional.

He felt a hand descend on his shoulder a moment later.

"Don't think I've ever heard you laugh, Cas." Dean announced, beer in hand and smile on his face.

The angel merely shook his head and looked at Dean fondly, "You are ridiculous."

"Hey, it was Sam's idea! I just bought the Ken doll."

"Yeah, leave it to Dean to know exactly where to go to buy a Barbie doll." Sam quipped as he walked by, briefly squeezing Cas' shoulder in greeting. "Didn't think we'd ever find a trench coat for it though but, Dean came through again."

"Can it, Samantha." He shot a scowl at his brother but by the time he'd turned back to look at Cas, his grin was firmly back in place. Cas felt his large hand squeeze where it sat at the base of his neck before he was released. "Take your coat off, Cas. Stay a while."

He gave one last glance to the miniature Castiel at the top of the tree and a glass of thick, beige liquid was shoved in his hand, which he took it gingerly upon noticing it viscous texture. "This looks disgusting."

"Yeah but it tastes like heaven."

He stared. "I can assure you that-"

"I know heaven doesn't taste like anything, Cas, it's an expression."

He looked back down into the drink and raised it tentatively to his lips. The flavour has intense and overwhelming. The spicy tingle of nutmeg tickled his nose the back of his tongue and caused images of the crystal blue sea shores and luscious green jungles of Indonesia to explode before his mind's eye. An overload of sugar cane had him recalling the mountainous peeks and green forests of South Asia and heavy cream coated his tongue like liquid velvet, soothing the harsh spices pleasantly, and underneath it all, the burn of bourbon cut through the other flavours to create something quite wonderful.

All in all it was quiet the experience.

"Pretty good, right?" Dean said beside him.

Cas swallowed the creamy liquid and nodded. "It is...that is a lot of things to taste in one mouthful." He admitted.

The hunter gave him another strange look. "It's just eggnog."

"Dean, you gotta remember that Cas probably hasn't eaten or drank too many things." Sam explained, appearing beside them. "Taste is almost as strong a sensation as scent or sight. I can be overwhelming as a new experience."

"Actually, until I met the two of you, I'd never ingested anything before." Cas supplied. He thought back, "In fact, I've only ever tasted water, bourbon and...white castle burgers." He grimaced, the very thought of hamburgers turning his stomach in a very human way.

When he looked back up at Dean, the man looked legitimately sad and he wondered what he'd said wrong.

"You've never even had pie? Or ice cream? Mac and cheese...?" He shook his head. "Dude..."

Castiel put his glass on the end table and removed his trench coat, remembering that Dean had asked him to do so a moment ago. He tossed it over the arm of the sofa just as Bobby stomped into the living room with a bundle of wood in his arms and a scowl on his face, boots tracking snow.

"Colder than a whore's heart out there." He heard the man grumble. When he spotted the brothers, his scowl deepened. "You know, you two should be making wood runs instead of making an old man go out in a blizzard."

Sam looked genuinely contrite but Dean pulled a face. "It's barely snowing out, Bobby." Sam elbowed him hard in the ribs and he grunted. "Er...I mean, we'll get the next load."

With a roll of his eyes, Bobby turned and spotted Cas, nodding a hello. As he walked by he gruffly said, "I'll get you a drink Cas. No doubt they'll make you drink that egg stuff otherwise."

He felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth again. "Thank you, Bobby."

"Ok, Cas!" Dean suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Time for a little Snow Man 101."

His confusion must have shown on his face for Dean immediately clarified.

"We're gonna teach you how to make a snow man."

"I see." He briefly entertained the idea of a anatomically correct human digestive system made entirely out of snow and decided whatever they were about to construct would probably not be that detailed because, quite frankly, Dean lacked the attention span necessary to achieve such a goal.

And as building a snow man likely involved being _out in the snow_, he removed his suit jacket and tie as well, not wanting it to get in the way of his movements. While he waited for the brothers to pull on their boots and jackets and hats and other various things human apparently needed to keep from dying in the winter, Cas shifted his wings behind him, longing to stretch them out fully. It just wasn't the same when they were incorporeal, it wasn't as satisfying.

"You ok, Cas?"

He wished they would stop asking him that so frequently. He immediately stopped squirming and folded his wings tightly against his back. "Fine."

"Really? 'Cause it looks like you've got ants in your pants."

He cocked his head at the strange mental image those words invoked. "No, really. I was just...wishing I could stretch my wings."

Sam, who'd been bend over to tie up his boot, suddenly straightened, his eyes wide. "Your wings?" he echoed.

He wondered maybe if Sam was getting sick, hearing the strain in his voice. He made a mental note to check later. "Yes. It has been a while since I've been able to stretch them. It is similar to when you complain about being in the impala too long." He tried to explain.

Sam brushed some hair away from his face and did a double take when he saw the look his brother was giving him, then he straightened, cleared his throat and pulled on his jacket, with a nonchalant. "So stretch them."

"It requires a great deal of energy and-"

"Well you'll be hanging out with us for the rest of today. You'll have time to charge your batteries." Dean said, opening the door and stepping outside.

Castiel supposed they were right. On top of that, it was only going to get worse, and with the war a constant threat over his head, he could not afford to have his powers at anything but their peak. Today might be the only time for a long while that he'd be able to leave himself so vulnerable without having to worry about not having anyone close by to help him if something happened.

He stepped over the threshold and onto the porch, noticing that Bobby had, in fact, been exaggerating when he'd use the term 'blizzard'. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow were drifting with an unhurried laziness to the ground and he moved down the three steps and into the yard so he could hold out his hand palm up to catch a few of the flakes falling from the sky.

Intricate, jagged, swirling patterns of crystallized ice shards arranged in dazzling mathematical fractals stole his attention momentarily and he couldn't help but compare it to the vastness of the galaxy in which he'd spent his morning sun gazing. One was so vast and endless; the other so small. Of course, if he were the size of an atom, the snowflake on his finger tip would seem endless as well.

He blew it off the end of his finger, where it fluttered to the ground and merged with the millions of others and now it really _was_ endless.

The sound of Sam and Dean arguing about something caught his attention then and he smiled fondly at the brothers, although it wasn't long before that ache at the base of his wings had him grimacing and he closed his eyes, fed up with the uncomfortable feeling. He concentrated on pulling his grace from his wings, draining it from them like blood from a wound. As he literally _pulled_ his wings into this plane of reality, he felt his heart working overtime to pump blood into the new appendages, leaving him feeling light headed.

Less than ten seconds later he gratefully stretched his wings over his head, tips reaching up into the air as far as they could, muscles straining, loosening. He tilted his head back at the relief of it, arching his back reflexively, to stretch the muscles that now had to support the sudden appearance of the wings, and groaned.

It seemed that the brothers had stopped arguing, if the sudden, peaceful, silence was anything to go by, and Cas turned to where he'd last seen them standing a few yards away. They were still there, but now stood shoulder to shoulder as they gaped at him, mouths hanging open shamelessly.

Castiel actually rolled his eyes. "I would have thought wings would be among the _least_ interesting things the two of you have ever seen." He deadpanned as he walked the few feet between them.

Dean seemed to snap out of it pretty quickly but the telling rosy colour that suddenly flooded his face said everything and Cas restrained a grin, knowing Dean would immediately be on the defensive.

After a moment, Sam visibly shook himself and said, "Sorry, it's just...most of the stuff we see is really horrible and dark and so..._evil_. And Cas," he scoffed in lingering amazement, "You're beautiful."

For the first time ever, Castiel felt the heat of blood rushing into his face with a strange mixture of embarrassment and delight at the praise, folding his wings against his back self consciously.

Dean, apparently lacking the compassion Cas had had for _him_, delighted in the redness of his cheeks and smiled wide.

"Aw, you made the angel blush!" He cooed.

He glared, trying to will away the colour in his face. Luckily, Sam took pity on him and launched in to snow man building basics.

"So, a snowman has three parts. Head, middle and bottom. The head is smallest, middle is a little bigger and the bottom is biggest, traditionally."

"More stable." Dean pipped up.

"Right. Then you have tree branches for the arms, rocks for the eyes and mouth and a carrot for the nose."

"Uh, excuse me, aren't you forgetting something?" Dean asked gravely.

Shaking his head a little, the younger brother simply said, "No."

Castiel watched closely as Dean, shoulders heavy like Sam had just made some grievous error, turned to him. "All snow men need a scarf and top hat." He threw a look over his shoulder at Sam and then bent down to start gathering snow. "Ok, I'll do the head, Sam you do the middle and Cas you do the bottom."

He nodded but then realized he wasn't really sure how big they were supposed to make this thing. "How large is the bottom part supposed to be?" He asked as both brothers shuffled around on their knees, the balls of snow they were pushing around growing.

At his enquiry, Dean stopped, "I dunno, like, this big." He held his gloved hands a few feet apart and then continued rolling the ball.

He turned to the large yard full of heavy snow and cocked his head to the side, pondering how he might go about making a snow ball. He certainly was not going to crawl around in the snow. He settled for simply pulling snow from the ground into one localized point several feet above the ground, packing it together much more tightly than was likely necessary but he wasn't about to start over. He sheared off any irregularities until he was left with a perfect sphere four feet in diameter and then turned back to the brothers, the large snow ball hovering just beside him.

"I've finished the bottom piece." He announced, causing both of the to turn from where they'd been studiously smoothing the edges of their own snow balls, casting furtive glances at each other to gauge the level of perfection needed to best the other.

He felt no small amount of satisfaction when they spotted his perfect sphere and scowled.

"Man, that's cheating!" Dean cried.

Cas merely lifted an eyebrow, feeling no guilt after the man made fun of him for blushing earlier. "It is not cheating if you did not specify any rules."

"Alright, smart ass, just bring it here."

He walked over to them, tugging the ball along in the air behind him.

"Ok, set it down there." Dean pointed and Cas let the ball drop to the ground where inscructed.

The brothers then lifted Sam's on top of his and then finally Dean's on top of Sam's and Castiel found himself looking at something that was less human and more...three balls of snow. He cast a sideways glance at Sam and Dean as they stood back and admired their handy work and decided to say nothing and catalogue this into the file of human customs that he would just never understand.

Suddenly Dean pulled a carrot from his pocket and ordered Sam and him to go find rocks to give the poor abomination a some semblance of a face. They went to the start of the driveway and kicked away the snow until they found what Sam deemed 'suitable' rocks for their purposed. They were dark in colour and round(ish) in shape and all about equal size. It took them ten minutes and Castiel rather thought Sam was being a bit picky but when another of the stones he presented to the younger brother was rejected, Sam informed him in a quiet voice, as if scared Dean might hear, how seriously his brother took snow man building.

Personally he did not understand Dean's fascination with the tradition, though that did not mean he could not appreciate it. Dean seemed passionate about so few things these days that Castiel did not have the heart not to indulge him. Besides, just because he did not share the interest did not mean he didn't want to participate; spending time with the brothers for no reason other than to just spend time with them was...nice.

When they returned with the stones, Dean had shoved the carrot into the snowman's face and he took the rocks from Sam, starting to push them into the snow under the carrot, spacing them like teeth and then told Cas to put in the eyes.

He did as he was told, pushing the black stones into the snow roughly where a human being's eyes would be and then stepped back to stand beside Sam as Dean meticulously arrange the teeth.

"That does not look like a man." He whispered to Sam as Dean finished with the face and jammed two sticks into the poor thing's torso that were apparently meant to be arms.

He heard Sam stifle a laugh beside him and looked up at his face, not understanding what was supposed to be so funny.

"Sammy, give me your scarf." Dean ordered with his hand already outstretched.

No longer smiling, Sam unwound the blue scarf from around his neck and threw it at his brother's face insolently.

His confusion grew as Dean proceeded to wrap the scarf around the snow man's neck. Surely Dean knew that snow men would not require such a garment. "Sam, why-"

"It's just the way it's done, Cas." Sam replied gently, seemingly having predicted his question before he spoke it. "It makes them look a little more human."

He supposed that made sense, as much as any of this tradition made sense.

"It's missing the top hat." Dean said, looking the creation up and down with a critical eye.

"Bobby has a lot of hats." Cas offered, thinking the snow man might look rather musing with one of Bobby's trucking hats on it.

Dean turned to him, eyes wide. "Holy shit, that's awesome."

He dashed into the house, shouting Bobby's name the whole way and returned only seconds later with a bright red trucker cap in his hands. He skidded to a halt in front of the snow man and placed the hat gently on it's head as if it might all crumble beneath his fingers if he were too rough with it, and then stepped back to stand beside Cas and Sam to admire their work.

Castiel still did not think the think it resembled any human he'd ever seen, if anything it was a crude and somewhat alarming representation of his father's creation, though, again, just because he did not understand it certainly did not mean he should voice such thoughts and take away from what the brothers saw as something most normal families enjoyed doing.

And suddenly the realization that they'd invited Cas to share in this activity with them hit him like a tone of bricks and he actually stumbled backwards.

Two hands were immediately grabbing both his arms to steady him.

"Whoa, you ok?"

"Yes." He assured them hurriedly, that same swell of pleasant warmth spreading through his chest as when they'd asked him to come spend the day with them in the first place. He grasped blindly for something to explain his falter other than the shock of realizing they considered him family. "It is likely my vessel having to stretch it's blood supply to my wings."

"Ok, well, lets go in and have some hot chocolate." Sam suggested. "I promise it won't be as overwhelming as the eggnog. Just cocoa powder, milk and a little sugar."

He allowed them to steer him back to the house, as if he didn't know the way, understanding their need to help even if they knew he did not require it. Then again, perhaps they didn't know, they could not see illness and injury by a mere touch as he could.

He stopped them when they reached the porch to give his wings a powerful shake, dislodging the snow that had gathered on them so as not to get Bobby's floors all wet.

Once they were inside he was promptly pushed into the overstuffed and incredibly comfortable couch by the fire place, a blanket was thrown over his lap and Bobby held out a glass of bourbon to him.

"I'm not dying." He announced at length, mildly irritated with being treated as an invalid.

Bobby took a seat at his desk and put his feet up on top of it, shushing him. "It's better if you just let them go." He took a swig from his own glass.

Cas threw his back like a shot and mimicked Bobby's position, placing his booted feet up on the coffee table, crossing his ankles. He was surprised to find the position quiet comfortable.

"Ok, Cas, here you go." Dean handed him a mug of what he could only assume was hot chocolate and he took it, sniffing cautiously.

It certainly smelled less complex than the eggnog.

He took a sip of it and a flood a sweetened cocoa washed over his tongue, the bitter scent of the bean curled around his nose and he was suddenly at the base of the Andes mountains where the tail end of the amazon river tapered off into the rolling foothills.

"Better?" Dean asked.

He nodded, taking another sip and thinking of the time he'd witnessed the first homo sapien sapien to stumble upon the cocoa bean tree. He was surprised to learn how much taste and smell of food seemed to be tied to memories and experiences. Perhaps that was why people enjoyed eating so much.

The rest of the afternoon was passed watching what Castiel had been told were 'Christmas Classics' which he was required to watch; the reason was unclear but he assumed it was some kind of right of passage situation and so sat patiently on the couch as they watched on Bobby's flat screen tv.

He had to admit they were entertaining.

After the third movie ended and the screen went black, Sam was snoring lightly and the sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving the windows dark and the only light source the small, colourful lights on the Christmas tree.

The peace was broken when Dean threw his pillow at Sam's face with a, "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam snorted awake beside him, looking around blearily for the source of his sudden state of consciousness and his brown eyes immediately locked on to his brother, narrowing in irritation, but before anything could come of it, Dean chucked a small box at him and simply said, "Present!".

Cas assumed it was the closest thing to a peace offering a Winchester was capable of.

Sam took the lid off the box and suddenly his scowl melted away and he threw his head back and laughed heartily, stomping his foot and shaking his head. "Man, where did you _find_ this?!"

He leaned over to see what was in the box but was distracted by the sharp pain in his chest when Dean threw a second small box, this time at _him_ with a repeat of, "Present!" He threw a third one at Bobby but Cas was focused on his own.

He'd just lifted the lid off the box when Dean threw himself onto the couch beside him and slung an arm over the back of the sofa behind his shoulders. "It's from Sammy and me." He explained. "By the way, you're hard as hell to buy for."

"Yeah, what do you get an Angel of the Lord?" Sam laughed.

"A bad ass warrior that spends most of his time fighting the opposing forces of of heaven in lethal battles to the death-"

"-and the rest of his time helping us dumb humans kill evil things down here on earth-"

"-doesn't really have a place to hang his hat at the end of the day so nicknacks are out of the question;"

"-not to mention you don't really have a heavenly condo to hang pictures and stuff."

Cas looked back and forth between the brothers as they both contributed one line at a time as if they were one person, blinking as he tried to keep up with their figures of speech and words he didn't really know. Like what in the Nine Hells was a condo?

He focused on Dean again when he finished speaking. "So, when we stumbled on this little gem, we thought maybe you'd like it."

Castiel overturned the small box and was mildly surprised to see a ring sitting in the palm of his hand. It was a thick, black band carved from, he looked at it more closely and was shocked to find just what it as made of.

"This is carved from pure obsidian." He told them, eyes wide.

Dean and Sam both shrugged. "If you say so, we had no idea. And don't worry, those carvings on it aren't evil. We tried every test known to man and their only actual purpose is to 'bring luck to the wearer'."

Upon closer inspection, Cas could see the small markings around the outside of the band and examined them closely, not recognizing them.

"Even though we tried everything we could think of, you should probably try everything you can think of too before actually putting it on." Sam advised.

Cas grinned, having already fully planned on doing so. "Of course. Thank you."

"Well, I guess we just figured you could use a little luck."

When Bobby returned with four tumblers of scotch, Cas pulled the gift he'd gotten the man from thin air and set it down on the desk after Bobby had taken a seat.

"Merry Christmas, Bobby."

The gruff man took one look at the bottle and his eyes widened comically. "Where the hell did you get this?"

Cas smiled, delighting in the man's genuine shock. He knew Bobby was a scotch lover but he hadn't been sure how extensive his knowledge was on the subject, but it was obvious that the man appreciated the gift for what it was.

"What is it?" Dean asked, he and his brother approaching the desk where the bottle sat with curious expressions.

"It's a bottle of Glenfarclas 1955." Bobby said, a little breathless. "This is a fifteen thousand dollar bottle of scotch." He grinned up a the angel. "Thanks, Cas."

Castiel pulled the stone from his pocket, turning it in his fingers and admiring it's glossy black surface, before handing it to Dean silently. He watched as Dean stared at it in confusion, likely trying to figure out if he'd actually just been given a rock for Christmas. Cas remained silent for a moment longer, thinking of the Santa Clause story Sam had told him about kids getting a black lump of coal if they'd been bad and nearly laughed.

When Dean looked up with a small smile and something polite to say, Castiel finally grinned and said, "It's from Saturn's inner ring

Dean's face went slack with shock, "Are you serious?"

He nodded, "I had to...take a break and spent the morning on a small boulder in the D Ring to watch the sun rise over the planets.

"Holy shit." Sam whispered beside him. He reached for it with a "Lemme see it!" but Dean moved it out of reach with a scowl.

"No way! Get your own space rock!"

Seeing an argument about to exploded between them over a damn rock, Castiel quickly presented Sam's gift.

"Here!" He said quickly, shoving the small plant in Sam's path to Dean.

The taller brother stopped and fixed his eyes on the small flower in it's little clay pot. It's petals were long, with a fat base and two pointed tips like snake tongues. The most remarkable thing was the colour, somewhere between royal blue and violet.

"It's beautiful." Sam said, "I've never seen a flower like this. Where did you get it?"

"An unnamed planet in the Andromeda galaxy."

Silence hung heavy between the four of them and Sam seemed beyond words as he looked between the alien plant and the angel that had given it to him.

Cas decided to take that as a good sign, it was not often one rendered the Winchester brothers speechless and, despite himself, a smirk had worked it's way on to his face.

The rest of the afternoon was spent sharing Bobby's present from Cas and Sam and Dean poking, prodding and asking questions about his 'fluffy' wings.

After a few drinks the questions became more and more ludicrous until Dean sat down on the floor beside him with a wide grin on his face.

"So are they ticklish?" He asked, only slurring his words a little and waggling his eyebrows.

At the mere thought, Cas bristled and could feel his feathers stand at attention, puffing out and making them look twice as big.

"Dean." He warned.

But the hunter was already backing off with wide eyes and then glanced over his shoulder at his snickering brother. "Jeez it's like spooking a cat." He turned back with a smile, "You puffed right up!"

After a brief argument and subsequent wrestling match that Cas won almost immediately, merely pinning a disgruntled and snarling Dean with one hand and a passive expression, Sam suggested they watch another movie and within moments they were both unconscious on either side of him.

Bobby looked over and saw both brothers with their heads resting on the angel's shoulders and raised his glass to him from across the room.

"Welcome to the family, kid."

Castiel grimaced, hoping they weren't drooling on him. "Thank you."


End file.
